Hakim
by WrittenPhoto
Summary: He looked like a messiah, delivering his words through assassinations. He was named Altair they said. He was strong they said. He was wise they said. And I was in awe of him
1. Chapter 1

When I was born, I came forth covered in blood. I was confused and startled at my body requiring air to be pulled forth into my lungs. I screamed loudly. My stomach aching to be filled with nourishment. My Mother was a mere nineteen years old when she bore me. Before me, were my two brothers, Aquil and Imad. She was fifteen when she had Imad, and then sixteen when she bore Aquil.

I was a small babe resting my cheek upon her back where she kept me when she first saw the Assassins at work. She had heard of what they did, but never had seen what they did since she was moved to Masyaf for marriage.

It was a young teen that was fleeing from the fortress on top of the hill. Grey robes billowing behind him, and white blurs surrounding him. He was killed when he tried to lunge at my Mother. Her Husband shushed her when she came home, comforting her with his own nine fingers.

I had let out a healthy cry of protest in the market earlier that day when the teen had been running from his mentors he so desperately wanted to leave. I was given strange looks when my cry burst through the market. A few mistook me as a son and praised her on bearing a strong male for her Husband.

I was very young when I had to make my first run to the Assassins fortress. I was carrying a letter to my Father from my Mother. My Mother did not have the strength to get to the fortress, and honestly, she was scared of going there. I was unafraid and young. My brothers lived there, and I liked seeing them. They would try and sneak from their duties when they saw my brown hair emerge through the cloaks of white. This was the very first time I saw the Grand Master. He looked like a messiah, delivering his words through assassinations.

He was named Altair they said.

He was strong they said.

He was wise they said.

And I was in awe of him, I wanted to follow him around and observe his every move. He was the reason that my Father was allowed to be officially married to my Mother. He was the reason the Assassins were stronger.

He was the reason I had hope.

When I had my first bleedings, my Mother gave me cotton and a Hijab. I didn't understand it at all, why wouldn't I be like my Brothers? Running horses and learning the ways of swords. I was confused; I wanted to be like my Brothers, and my Father. I wanted to run around in white and grey robes, giving up my ring finger and changing the world around me with killing. Yet I was so confused, why did I have to wear a Hijab? Why can't I ride horses and give up my ring finger? My Mother stared at me weirdly for a moment when I told her that. Shaking her head, her lips in a thin line, with the hint of red coating her cheeks in slight anger; she said.

"Because you are woman and woman marry and bear children."

I had run to my Father than and asked him why I could not become like him and my Brothers. He tilted his head, confusion dotting his features, and slight sadness.

"You are woman, and women do not do men's work."

Fear began to grasp me, was I doomed for women's work? I couldn't ask my Brothers, they were off on missions. So I did what I thought best. I sneaked into the fortress under the excuse I was to deliver a letter to my Father, who I skittered far past while he was teaching one of his apprentices in the bruise arena. I called it Bruise arena ever since I was young, since my Father always came back covered in them.

But to disregard that, I sneaked into the fortress. I was of course; cast a blind eye from being around so often. I had reached the Grand Masters study, peeking in to find him… Altair, speaking quietly to a young boy who looked about my age, He turned to me very quickly, his hands holding tightly to a bow that was ready to snap at the mere thought of adding pressure to it.

I had seen him before, he was the Grand Masters son, and his name was unknown to me. His face was red, and he stormed off after he saw me peeking from the edge of a book shelf.

Father always said that the Grand Masters sons acted arrogant at first when they started training, until he said that the Grand Master talked to them very sternly in public.

When the Grandmaster motioned me forward, I stayed where I was. His brow raised, and his eyes scanned me. His facial features open to me for his hood was down.

I broke the silence that seemed to have lasted for hours.

"They say you are wise."

This caused a strange look on his face. His brows crinkling at my lean and awkward body that was hidden half behind the book shelf.

"They say that." His words were low and slow, thought out, and they sounded dangerous.

My courage appeared suddenly, and I walked up closer to him.

"I feel as if my path is being threatened."

This caused slight panic in his eyes, and when I was older, I realized he was concerned for me. Why would a girl this young believe her path of life was being threatened? She had so much to live for!

"How old are you child?"

I raised my chin high. "Twelve."

His gaze became soft, and he kneeled before me.

"You are Hanan's daughter."

I nodded in acknowledgment.

"And what ails you to feel that your path of life is being threatened?"

I grew quiet then, and looked around, I had never heard of the Grand Master kneeling before someone, kneeling to help sort out **my **problems.

"I am a woman." I paused, licking at my chapped lips, my hands adjusting the weird thing called a Hijab upon my head. "And I have learned recently that I have been given no choice in my path. I ask my Mother why I cannot be like Imad and Aquil, riding horseback and learning to fight when they were my age. She frowned at me and told me I was to bear children for the man I married. I went to my Father and asked him, he told me I cannot to men's work."

When I looked up at him, from staring at my feet the entire time. He looked surprised, amazed even.

"You wish to become one of us?"

I nodded energetically, my lips breaking out in a smile. But his did not; he was still dumbstruck at the idea of me wanting to be an Assassin.

'I am sorry, but I cannot allow you to be an Assassin. We only accept men.' He could have said that to me then, he could have downright told me no, but he didn't, for he had changed from that arrogant boy who became a novice again.

"I believe you should meet my Wife.

No.. he was a Man.

* * *

Deep within the fortress, I was led to a chamber that represented that of an Assassins bureau resting area. It was overfilled with pillows or rich and lavish colors and stitching's, a fountain was on the wall, and light cascaded through the top of a grate above. A woman was there, and she was obviously not of here. Her skin resembled that of a European, and I immediately thought of Templar, Father told me if I thought someone was a Templar, I was to run.

I crashed backwards into the Grand Master, his chuckle going through the air.

"She will cause no harm, she is with the Assassins."  
It was still a cautious emergence into the room. Although the Grand Master merely swooped into the room to the woman who I supposed was his wife, and tenderly touched her cheek with his hand. She had been writing something when we had entered, and she looked somewhat annoyed right now. Until she looked upon me.

"Who is she?"

"She is the daughter of Hanan Salib, and she wishes to become an Assassin."

Her breath caught and she looked at me. "Leave us Altair; I will take her under my wing."

He left through the door, the light bouncing off him as he left.

Maria was kind to me, when I would mess with my Hijab, trying to get it right, she would throw it off me and hand me European clothes she wore. They made me feel comfortable and alive, as if I was not Women! But a Man inside of a Women's body!

"Now tell me, why do you wish to become an Assassin?"

I was leaned against pillows, basking in her European clothes, the pants rolled up to keep off the heat, while the shirt billowed around my waist from being too loose.

"I don't want to be like women, and stay home and bear children." I whispered, my hands behind my head as I stared at the grated ceiling, causing the light to be separated by millions of dark spots.

"I want to be strong, I want to be the savior of my people. Sure, I could be a savior to a family line, but why? Why not prevent that family line being cut down with my will and strength? I could prevent women marrying solely for money or helping a line emerge from being the last in their family… It honorable to do both, but with the skills of an Assassin, I can be honorable in causing no grief towards the line that might die out."

"But what of the grief you cause the other families?"

This caused me to pause.

"What if they only killed that family for they had tried to eliminate the very thing you are trying to protect?"

"I would hear the entire story then."

"Ah… but sometimes a story is lost in the ages, and a rivalry will only stop when one is dead, or they kill themselves with hate. But if you stepped in, what changes, how will stop or start something" Her banter caused me to grow dumbfounded, and she smiled at me for a moment. "Assassins work in the dark to serve the light, and they make many a wrong choices. But in the end, there will always be a sad and happy ending."

"And there is never just one."

My head jerked to the side when a body walked into my view, it headed toward Maria and she spared it a glance before looking at the grated ceiling again.

"What are you doing here Darim?" Her tone was not that she spoke when she was with me or the women who brought us food. It was calm and easing. It sounded what most people would think of as motherly. I did not know the voice of a mother, I only knew scolding and scared worry that I would not survive to bear children.

"The Master is curious to why it is taking so long for this training you are doing; he is wondering why he has not seen you outside for several weeks now." His tone was calm and steady, and his hands fiddled with the sides of his cloak. A bow was rested on his back also.

Maria sighed, and shifted her body, looking up at the boy.

"He should not wonder, for he sees me every day, and asks the same things. Do not be a pesk Darim; it is obvious you are curious. And call him your Father you daft child."

I was surprised, so Darim was Maria and Altairs son.

Darims face lowered, to where nothing showed upon his face. I found myself tilting my body and head to try and see under his hooded head. I caught red tints on his tanned cheeks. My lips curling up into a smile when I saw that. He merely grew flustered at my gaze and scrambled out of the room with a hasty.

"Good day Mother!"

That was the day that Maria smiled at me with a great smirk. Although I was confused to as of why.

When I was fourteen, I learned of arranged marriages.

I was sitting on the ground working on drawing in the and in front of our house at the edge of town. My Hijab lying beside me.

One moment I was drawing in peace, thinking of Maria and her European ways. Then I being pulled to my feet by my Mother, her hands patting me down the dust that gathered upon me sitting down on the ground. She growled loudly to find my brown hair splayed around my shoulders.

"Where is your Hijab?! Put it on! Put it on!"

She spotted it and threw it upon my head. Her hands hastily pinning it around like an older woman would put on a Hijab.

"There's a man in the house, hurry, go into the house!"

I was highly confused, and just went along with it. My Brothers were men, and so was Father, why would Mother care if a man was in our house? Mother was leaning over my ear when we came to the back door.

"Just walk around, don't talk if you're not spoken to. Just position yourself around the house! Yes that will do!"

I was pushed through the door, and I was alone in the darkened house. The Hijab was bothering me, and I felt like scratching at my head. When I wore the Hijab, I could not feel the breath of the earth in my hair, I could not feel the sun glinting it rays upon my cheeks with a smile. The only reason I would think I could feel the fruits that Allah has given us is by becoming a woman in a harem, constantly bathing around in the sun with the other women and our children.

But that life was not for me, but it might as well have been.

I tore off the Hijab, securing it on my waist and walked into the entryway where we had our table and pillows. Father was sitting there smoking on the Hookah with a strange older man. He had lavish clothes spun upon him, and he was mighty skinny for a man his age. He looked sick with his pale cheeks that had no color. I could see his cheekbones!

But when Father turned towards me, his cheeks grew red in anger. While the man looked at me with haunting eyes, and he looked to grow ever paler.

"You never told me you had a daughter Hanan. She is quite beautiful."

I had frozen up then, staring wide eyed at them both, the sick man fascinated with me, and Father steaming with anger.

"She would be a beautiful addition to my Harem. Her brown hair is quite a change from the ebony hair around…."

I ran.

I hid in the town, in a box that held nothing but old goat droppings. I stayed there all night; for I knew that when I returned home, I would be beaten. Soon, my stomach began rumbling and hissing at me to crawl forth, and that was my doom.

I was grabbed by a leg, causing my body to collapse and be dragged forth. My other leg kicking out towards a robed hand that was holding me in a bruising grip, my wail cried out in the air, and soon I was surrounded by three white cloaked men. Two stood idly by. Oh but I knew the stance of the third one. I scrambled away on my bum, my legs tripping over my skirt, my brown hair billowing around me. I was too young and slow though. My upper arm was held in a tight grip, and I was soon being dragged away to our home. The two others flying away like eagles gliding across air currents.

It was not even an hour later that I snuck away from my house through a window in panic, my heart beating fast as I made hurried silent footsteps up the road to the fortress. I was quivering mess, snot running from my nose with my tears falling quietly.

And a Hijab upon my head.

I was stopped at the front gate.

"State your business."

My eyes were lowered to the ground, my face hidden by the shadows like a true assassin.

"I need to see the Grand Masters wife."

"I cannot allow that."

Usually, I would yell out in fury right now, for them not allowing me to see the woman I so desperately needed.

"I need to see the Grand Masters wife." My teeth chattered, and I heard an exasperated sigh.

"No."

"Bring me to the Grand Master than!"

My fury bubbled over, my teeth clenching and I stared at the young Assassin. His robes a dirty gray of a novice. His eyes drew a guarded expression, and he let out a low whistle. Another Novice dropping from the side of the building and walking to the inside of the fortress.

My body felt strange as I walked up the stairs to the great Altairs study. A yellow glow had peeked into my vision, along with the sound of shimmering glass. But it quickly disappeared like a wanderer with the wind.

"Leave us."

Those were the words spoken when I appeared in his vision. I was quietly staring at the floor, my face still hidden under the darkness of night, only the faint light caught a part of my chin and jaw.

"What is it you want young child?"

I took a rattling breath. "I need to see Maria."

I was quickly advanced upon, and my cheek was taken ahold of. My numbness wearing off as pain hit me by the purple accent dotting my jaw. I quickly pulled away from his loose grip, adjusting my Hijab to where I was hidden in shadows again.

It was not long that the Grand master left me; he came back with silent steps that were followed by quick ones. I was pushed into the breasts of Maria. Her body guiding me below the depths of the Masyaf Fortress. I was pushed into the baths, and I could hear Maria's clothes hit the floor as she locked the door behind us. I was nestled into a corner of the steaming room, huddled into myself.

"Let me look."

Her tone was tense and stern, and I flinched. My lips parted, but I refused to answer.

"Let me look."

Her tone was softened, and I could hear the way she had spoken to Darim come through in her voice. I allowed myself to turn my jaw up. Purple designs fluttering across my jaw, and a thin straight scratch went straight through my left eyebrow, leaving a puckered wound, along with a faint trail of blood running out of my mouth.

"There was a man in the house…" I spoke quietly as the woman I had come to love as my own Mother undressed me, first throwing my Hijab upon the ground and spitting on it.

"He was sick, but he spoke of harems and adding me… I just… I ran."

Tears began to flow, and Maria touched my shoulder; a flinch was pulled from me and I tried to get away from her. She quickly pulled me forth again and set me into the water, and grabbing a cloth an wiping my tears away as I sobbed.

"I hid from him and made it worse." I sobbed quietly into Marias shoulders.

"And how long did you hide Hakim?"

"Since the morning that the man came to our house."

It was silent for a moment, and all that could be heard in the pillow room was my sobs. Then a sharp breath being pulled in.

"That it very good Hakim, very good, Like a true Assassin!"

A sense of hope fluttered into my heart then, my eyes brightening.

"Truly Maria?"

"Truly."

* * *

I was Fifteen when I finally realized I could control nothing.

A part of me died that day.

And a part of me was born that day also.

* * *

Hijab (Veil for woman)

Imad is four years older than Hakim

Aquil is three years older.

Aquil Salib Was born 1190 (Brother)

Hanan Salib (Father)

Imad Salib Was born 1191 (Brother)

Hakim Salib Was born 1194 making her a year older than Darim.

So more stories! I've just got so many ideas and so much time! SO I started an Assassins Creed fic like an idiot, And on one of the games I barely paid attention too… hehehe…. I'm such an idiot.

I've always thought Maria was badass though…

But thanks for reading! I'm trying to make this realistic, and better than some of the stuff that's out there. Like Black haired beauties who are gypsies and are named Esmeralda…. Nothing wrong through if you have a character like that… nothing wrong at allllllll…..

Again! Thanks for reading! I'm gonna go read fanfic now! And sleep afterwards!


	2. Chapter 2

A soft light from the fireplace crackled and popped as I sat in front of it, my cheeks flush from the heat. Just a mere touch to them would make you think I had a fever. It was a quiet night tonight, the reason, I wonder of often. Honestly, they scared me. That sickly pale man who wanted me in his harem, it scared me horribly. I felt like a mouse trapped in the cages that messenger hawks would pluck their food from. Was I to be mere food from a hawk, to be trapped in a cage?

I brought my hands to my overheated cheeks, gently rubbing my tingling hands against them. My Hijab was twisted around my lap, my skirt rumpled as I sat. I had hoped that Maria would still be up, for she always helps me when I felt the need to get up at strange hours of the night. She always allowed me to talk to her about the life she lived in Europe, and about the greatness of the Assassins. And sometimes… although it didn't happen often, we talked about Templars. It felt sinful when we talked about them, and I peered around curiously wondering if any of the Assassins were listening to us. What if they told my Father I was talking about the Templars so casually? Maria would tell me of how they allowed her freedom and protection.

A door opened quietly, and I bothered not at all to look towards it. The footsteps were silent, and I thought it would be my Brothers, yet I stared at the thriving fire. The body that plumped down beside me was clothed in grey robes, and I glanced to his body. It was not Imad and nor was it Aquil.

"My name is Darim." His hands brought down his hood to show his brown hair. His facial structure was different than most boys my age. Most likely because Maria was from Europe. She was different from all other woman. She didn't have the same skin tone and face as the others woman and girls around here.

"Hakim." I grew a smile then, my hair falling off of my shoulders as I leaned forward. It was very silent then. The fire illuminating our faces just a little. My eyes were drooping, yet I felt wide awake. Something amazing was happening, and yet I held no part in its forthcoming.

"Why are you here alone? Why are you not home?" The question popped the silence quickly, and my head tilted towards Darims with silence.

"My Mother is boring my Father another child."

A nod acknowledged my statement, a silent prayer to Allah was said under his breath. A small breath released from my mouth as I listened to the prayer, knowing it was for good will. It was very silent, and yet I didn't notice. What happened when we spoke? Would the silence in the air dissipate far away from here, and we would speak comfortably like Maria and I would? I don't believe so.

"Why do you come to the fortress so much? Your Father shouldn't be needing letters almost every day."

I glanced to Darim then, a smile ghosting across my lips as the corner of my mouth tugged up. I moved the Hijab around my lap, twiddling with the cloth that was spit upon and thrown across the sandy ground while I drew in the sand.

"I enjoy the company of your Mother." I paused a moment, thinking over my next words, for maybe I might offend him. "And the Assassins, they… interest me." I looked at him with happiness in my eyes. "When I was young, all I wanted to do was cut off my ring finger and run wild with my brothers on horses."

"Why in the world would you want to kill like we do?"

I was taken aback by that, my body freezing with a slight shiver, even though my body was being horribly warmed by the fire.

"I was raised like that, I was a small baby on my Mothers back when I first witnessed a runaway novice being killed. I know nothing other but Assassins and Templars. I fear the day when the Templars strike the brotherhood down completely, but I live for the day when the Assassins strike down the Templars." When I glanced at Darim from my hands, he was attentive and curious. "It is all I have ever known, yet if it were to all disappear from my life, I don't know what I would do."

I grew wary over my rambling, I learned recently that woman were not supposed to speak up too much. And although I wished to be courageous and different like Maria, I couldn't help but feel the ways of woman being beaten into my brain.

"I wouldn't know what to do either."

Startled, I looked towards Darim, who had woken me from my absent minded conversation with myself. Honestly, I hadn't expected him to respond to me. As if I was below him, like a speck of dirt on his feet. I opened my mouth to voice this concern like I had with Maria, but it was caught in my throat as a grey cloaked Assassin opened the door and looked towards me.

"Hanan send word that you should return home immediately."

Soon the idea of something amazing happening died inside of me, despair quickly consuming me.

* * *

It was raining, it never rained in Masyaf. It was strange, I was walking and the next moment, water was consuming me. The wetness coating my hair and making it feel stringy. The older woman of the town would usually call me a spit fire, or an outcast since I was different than all young girls. But if they were not huddled inside their houses, petting their grandchildren's heads. They would have seen me with a dreary expression, water dripping from my cheeks like tears. They would have called me broken, a true woman now.

Alas, I refused to be changed from what I was. So I threw away my fear and despair into the rain, and opened the door to our house. It was an eerie sight, the way the shadows curved and moved from the candles being moved by the air blowing them around. The smell of iron was in the air, and it was unknown to me if it was to be the smell of life or death. Everything was quiet within the house, and I wondered if maybe they were cooing over my new sibling? No… no. The air was too strange, something was terribly wrong, and I had no idea what it was, even though I had a good idea to what it would be. I stepped further in, afraid that I was going to disturb something or other. What I found was strange, for I had never seen the acts of child birth before, only heard about it.

There was blood coating a cloth, and some of it was splattered on the floor. I saw a young woman washing her hands in a bucket, her hands moving in quick shaky movements. She was shivering horribly, and it was obvious this was not her place right now. I glanced around and found no one. But as soon as I noticed that, the woman washing her hands stood up and walked towards a doorway with a blanket over it and motioned me towards it. I nodded quite quickly and looked down at her hands. They were tinged with pink, and redness was drying around her fingernails, the red clinging to it like a failure to be reminded of.

I pulled the curtain aside and moved into the room. Mother was dozing silently, her head turned to the side, and for once, I saw her light brown air billowed around her. A quietness was in the air, I could see her Hijab lying beside her on the mass of pillows and blankets she was lying upon. My eyes were darting everywhere, there was no baby resting in her arms. So I took it a step further and went to the hammock that looked as if a bundle was there. I was correct, and peeked to see the tiny thing moving its arms. It was a boy, and I flushed a bit when seeing his genitals. I'd never seen that before… and honestly… it was weird, an anomaly.

I glanced quickly around, searching for Father, he was the one who called me here in the first place. Then where was he? Well… it was to be expected, Imad and Aquil told me men weren't supposed to be in the room of a women when she was giving birth. I sighed, and checked if Mother was still asleep, satisfied that she was getting rest, I picked up the baby who gurgled at me. A soft smile blossomed over my face over it, yet when I shifted my hands, it connected with something that was not normal. It was a small bump. And it was strange, wasn't there a small indentation to where both sides of the back met? Or what about a spine? Nervously, I felt under my new siblings back, gently flipping him over and seeing the strange bump that was enflamed skin, my eyes went wide when I saw the split that was causing the skin to be inflamed. Horror washed over me, and I moved the baby close to my chest, flipping him over in the process. I trotted silent to the young woman to no longer find her there. The only remnant of her being there was the red tinged water and blood on the cloth and floor.

When the door opened, I found Father standing there with a grim expression on his mouth as he pulled his hood down.

"Give me the baby Hakim."

My eyes glanced down at my Brother, his eyes wide as he gurgled and moved his hands. I drew him closer to my chest, wanting desperately to protect him. The air Father was giving off was keen to that when I saw him head off to a mission.

"No."

He took a step forward, and I took one back.

"Give him to me now Hakim."

"What is his name?!" I cried out, fear sprouting out of my body in tremendous amounts.

"He will have no name, for his death is soon."

I heard Mothers cry come from the room right next to us. It startled me that I fumbled with the baby, and Father darted and quickly scooped him from me. I reached out and sprawled myself against the floor.

"Father! What are you going to-!"

A spray of blood splatted against his robes and my own, and my sibling's breath left him from his mouth, his soul going with it. Nothing hit my ears then, Mothers cries deafened in my now mute ears. The dead babe was set upon the blood splattered cloth, the white robes that ended his life billowing and leaving the presence. My heart dropped and my heart thumped with a sound that would be like an empty drum. My hands desperately wrapped the bleeding body who was filled with death inside the cloth. His body was brought close upon my chest and I cried silently.

I don't know who had snapped me out of it, but they tried to take the baby from me, and I scrambled away outside of the house, the water washing parts of the strained blood from my cheek that was resting upon his limp head. The sky was still dark, and I hurried toward my salvation. Not the fortress this time, no… the river that ran by Masyaf in a canyon. I hurried down the slick slope, slipping on to the point where I was covered in clay. My body ached with grief and coldness.

And yet I wondered why. I had not known this baby for years like my own brothers. Yet, I felt lost, like I was supposed to help him grown up.

I reached the end of the slope when the sun began to rise, meaning I had been wandering the slope for hours on end. It was at this time I began digging into the mud, my tears coating my face like the rain had today when I felt excitement and despair walking down from the fortress.

I dug it shallow. And set him down, hastily throwing dirt upon him. The rain stopped, and yet the mud still seemed slick with the clouds tears. When I had finished, the dirt looked like a stomach that had bloated out for pregnancy, and I began crying again.

I cried heading up the slope, I cried when I saw my Mother staring at the hammock.

But most of all, I became a mess when I told Maria what happened, and she took me into her arms and cradled me as I cried.

* * *

Of the many lesson I learned in life, that day, I learned of the true meaning of Death, and I grew scared at how quickly life could come and go.

* * *

Anyone noticed I specifically make sure that all the stupid/dirty work goes towards grey cloaked Assassins?(Aka lower rank) Yeahhhhh, I made sure that that was ingrained very heavy in the story.

I really enjoy writing this story, mainly because it's trying to break boundaries that haven't been broken in the time Hakim is in. And if you know of history and how it treated women. If you're looking for one of those fanfics where they conquer it and become almighty and deliver woman from men and they live happily after, than go find another story. Honestly, if you don't like how they're treated, then off with ya! Read an Ezio and lady Assassin story with the girls name being Bella or something.

Ehhh, good ol mini rant.. hehe..

Also, I liked listening to the Soundtrack from the game called The Path while writing this. It's a very symbolic game that I would enjoy getting my hands on if I bought things on the internet..heh. If you are unfamiliar to the game called The Path, it's made by the group called Tale of Tales who also made Endless Forest. (Thank god Endless Forest is free.) Those two games, which are the only ones I am familiar with; are wonderfully made! I just re-downloaded Endless Forest and I'm still very impressed with it.

Well! Thanks for reading, and have a good time!

If you have any questions about this story and or about my other stories, feel free to message me or leave a review.

P.S Spina bifida is what happened


	3. Chapter 3

Halfway through my fifteenth year, Darim had his birthday. Maria was showing me how to sew a cloth. I had never wanted to learn when I was younger, but the way the fabric was with designs allowed me to be filled with awe. I just wanted to make at least one cloth. When Mother suspected my interest, she wanted me to make a Hijab with designs on the edge to attract a husband. I sneered at her and was promptly slapped. Then right back to Maria it was.

I was growing scared now though, my Brother Imad began sneering and rolling his eyes at me when I saw him at the fortress. When I saw him with his friends that he'd spar with, they'd taunt me and call me a man for wearing Marias pants, and not wearing a Hijab unless it was stuck onto me with sap or woven into my hair. When I was younger, he would play with me and be nice, and now… he's scaring me. Aquil is acting miffed about it, but I can tell he knows exactly what's happening to Imad.

I didn't find out until Darim's fifteenth year. I was in the market after Maria showed me how to sew. I was busy collecting cloth to sew into a pair of pants and shirt and or a blanket I could use… I was busy looking for thread too, but there wasn't much of an array since Masyaf was so small. I had to push past a small group of girls who barely noticed me walking past, I was weighing certain cloths to find if the quality was worth the price when I heard them.

"Did you hear? The eldest Salib is looking for a wife! An Assassin!"

"Don't sound so excited! Don't you know it's hard to marry an Assassin?!"

"But have you seen the way he walks towards the stables about to head towards a mission? Oh, the mere presence of him is defying in my breath!"

A small eruption of muffled giggles happened then, but I barely noticed; for I was standing there, eyes wide. Imad married? The thought it strange, yet he's of the marrying age. I furrow my brows, getting a strange look from the girls now, seeing as they noticed I wore no Hijab. I quickly bought the cloth and headed to the top of the hill, dodging angry novices storming to the stables to blow off their anger by tiring a horse. Imad was in the sparing arena, so he didn't notice me as I stormed off towards the room with the grated ceiling.

I opened the door quickly. "Maria! I was hoping that you would help me with-" Then paused when I saw Darim sitting next to his Mother, staring at me as the door closed with a heavy click behind me. Maria was focused on a shirt that was stained with pink, and was torn below the armpit.

"Yes, what can I help you with?" Darim answered this, a goofy smile going over his face. I blushed heavily, although it disappeared when Maria slapped him upside the head, a heavy thonk going through the room, his smile disappearing.

"Shut up Darim." She looked at me and smiled, moving her eyes to the pillows opposite of her. I promptly sat down and put the cloths in the middle of us, and Darim quickly reached over to look at them, moving his fingers over it. Until yet again, a loud thonk went through the room.

"Continue what you were saying Hakim, Darim here won't repeat a word."

I gulped and picked up a needle, continuing the strange blanket I was making of several cloths strewn together hazardly.

"Oh.. uh.. I heard some girls talking about Imad wanting a wife at the market, and my brothers are never able to talk to me, so I don't know what's going on…"

She made a hmm sound, and silence hit us. I focused heavily on the swirls I was making on the blanket.

"Imad says that he's looking for a wife that's not like you." Darim spoke suddenly, and I shuddered heavily, feeling dread. "He wants someone who is not rebellious and wears a Hijab… And I'm just repeating what he said Mother! It's not my words!"

I gulped, and tried to sew faster, pricking my finger and staining the cloth with small dot of blood.

"Did he say… anything else?"

"I don't think that's quite appropriate for me to say."

I sighed. "Oh.."

My head jerked up quickly after I said that, Maria standing up quickly with curse words on her breath. She began furiously scratching her head.

"That was, rude to say Darim, yet you still spoke. Hakim." My eyes sprung quickly to her form, and my back straightened. "Slap him."

I jerked quickly along with Darim. "What?!"

"He's was rude and disrespectful, now hit him. It's the way us English woman do it, so hit him."

I glanced quickly between them, and Darim's eyes were wide. "Why would I hit him?"

My timid voice did nothing to make her back off. "You would hit him because he's rude, so hit him already!"

I glanced between them quickly again, and slowly inched my way to Darim on my knees. He tensed as I gently moved my hand and patted him on the back of the head softly. He grew relaxed again and Maria angrily growled and stepped soundlessly and quickly, grabbing my hand and whacking it hard on his relaxed form, his body jumping when it made contact. I jumped and scooted away like a chicken with its head cut off.

"I'm sorry Darim! I'm sorry!"

He rubbed his head with a soft groan of hurt. "It's alright." His eyes straying from me to his Mother, glaring daggers at her.

I sighed softly at not being reprimanded, I hated when it happened. Father would get in these spouts of anger, and Mother would cower and shake her head. When I was younger, I was unafraid of the both of them; but now it was a horrible crash to reality.

A huff of air released from the only female in this room, and her feet stomped again. "I need something from Malik… Darim, take this note to him." She pulled parchment out and scribbled on it very quickly. My eyes went wide at the mere act of seeing a woman write. I'd never seen Maria write before. My curiosity picked up and I tilted my head.

"May I come?"

Darim snorted, and he responded in a sarcastic manner. "And see all the dusty books?" Maria handed him the note and hit his head with her hand again, making him huff in pain and anger.

"Yes, perhaps Malik can see why I take such interest in you so."

I barely heard her sentence, for I was up and already waiting outside. My excitement bouncing off me in waves that I had barely the thought to contain. I found Darim walking out confused with look upon his face, staring at my excited brown eyes that stared eagerly at the note in his hands as we walked.

"Why do you want to run an errand? All we're going to do is see that stupid Dai who just yells at us."

I looked over at him curiously, and then my eyes strayed to the note again.

"Can you read?"

He stared at me incredulously, our walk heading up a flight of stairs to the library. "Of course! Who can't read?" I became quiet then, and this silence caused Darims face to become quite red, his hood was down and I saw his hands itching towards it to cover the flustered look. "I'm sorry… I shouldn't-"

"It is alright." My voice was humble, for I had learned to accept some things that I could not do. My face did not fall from my happy expression. So I eagerly grabbed at the letter that Darim held so loosely and examined the elegant script that was obviously Arabic, yet there was something writing in strange lettering below. "So what does it say?"

Darim glanced at the note, his face still flustered from his words. "Mother is asking Malik about some papers for Fathers work." He then squinted his eyes at the strange writing I did not know. "And she asked him about something else in her English, yet I do not know what it says."

I hummed quietly, while walking with Darim with small mutters of words passed by. I noticed when we passed an Assassin or maid in the hall, he would make sure I was always close to the wall

"Could you… teach me to write?" I blurted quite suddenly, my eyes nervously trailed to his face as he jolted quite suddenly in surprise.

"I don't know… wouldn't Mother teach you if you asked?"

I blushed with embarrassment then, and busied my fingers with tracing the edge of the parchment, studying the note. "I just…" I grew quiet because I did not know why I asked him, perhaps I… I really do not know actually.

"I uh.. I'll teach you.. maybe tomorrow where you meet Mother?"

I grew happy then, even though this conversation seemed strained and awkward compared to most I've had. "Thank you so much Darim, thank you!" I was extremely happy, and barely noticed when we finally walked into the library. It was filled with many a dusty pages that I could not even comprehend. There were a few novices fluttering about with books and replacing them, but that was about it. When I stopped, Darim touched my arm slightly while he passed and led the way. I had no idea who this Malik person was. Although he seemed important.

"Malik!"

A grunt happened from the other side of the huge room, and we traversed the book shelves quickly in favor of finding the man who I quickly stared at. His right arm was missing… and in his other, her held a Quil that he quickly set down.

"What is it this time Darim? Do you perhaps want to spill ink all over my maps, or are… oh." He paused when he met my eyes, and I grew extremely flustered and practically threw the note at him. He grabbed it quickly with the skill and fluid like skill of an assassin. He read it quickly and then looked back up.

"I am Malik Al-Sayf." He tilted his head ever so slightly. "I've heard very many things about you Hakim."

I brought my hands to my hair and twisted it around my fingers nervously as I strayed my eyes to Darim. Did he hear all those things from my Brothers or perhaps my Father? I gulped nervously, watching him. But quickly Malik's entire demeanor changed. "Darim, go to my desk and get the papers on the very top of the drawer to the top right…" he then sighed and rubbed his temple as Darim put on this blank expression. "Papers Darim, papers, not a hookah pipe. Now go on!"

I stifled a giggle at the crestfallen expression on Darims face as he turned around and began walking off towards a desk that was nowhere in sight. I began walking, yet a hand rested on my shoulder causing me to jump.

"He will be fine, but perhaps you would you like to speak?"

I nodded, and followed him to a place that held pillows that were used for reading. He settled himself carefully upon a spot with several pillows. While I plopped down with a worry, this caused him to smile over at me.

"Hanan is your Father correct?"

I nodded, my smile disappearing into one of no expression.

"And you are the youngest of two eldest brothers?"

Another nod was thrown his way when I began fiddling with the Hijab I had taken to wrapping around my midsection like an assassin.

"Now, why do you not wear a Hijab?"

I snorted loudly then, and when I looked in his eyes, he seemed surprised at my reaction. Of course, I acted differently than those village girls who were beginning to be married off. "It hinders me greatly, I cannot feel the earths breath across my cheeks without some strain from the fabric surrounding my face. I breathe air that feels dead, and I cannot feel the sun tangling its rays upon my hair." I paused, looking at his intrigued face. "If you wish to know how it feels, I can let you borrow my Hijab… although Maria spits on it a lot…" I trailed off, remembering when she did so.

"I'd rather not have a cloth that Maria spits on upon my face then." He gave a smile then that I returned. And ever so quickly Darim had returned with the papers. I looked up at him happily, and he seemed to return the happiness. I was always this way when I was in the fortress, for it was my only and true home here. Malik took the papers and read over them quickly, mumbling a few things under his breath.

"Now take this to your Father, and don't-"

"Actually Malik, I was hoping to read a book with Hakim."

In that moment, we both looked at Darim with stupefied expression, I thought we we're going to start tomorrow. Not today! I was planning on buying my own book and a Quil and ink.. then some parchment to write on!

Malik let out a small huff, and got up with quickness I would not expect a man with one arm to do.

"Then I shall deliver these myself you brat, just don't…" He let out a long sigh and held the papers to his face in exasperation. "Don't ruin anything would you?"

Darim showed a mischievous smile. "I wouldn't dare."

While Malik walked away, he muttered. "Like that would make me feel better."

Once the one armed man had left the room, I looked up at Darim who was staring at me with an expectant look. I stood up and looked at him, and he just continued staring. He then waved his arm to show me the books around us, and I simply shrugged.

He let out a small huff of irritation. "Just choose one so I can read with you!"

I wrinkled my nose and poked a finger into his robes. "I'm the one who can't read, how about I point one out and you read the title for me."

He huffed again and offered a small bow. "Go ahead, point and I shall read for you m'Lady."

I looked at him strangely then, twisting the strange words around in my brain. "M'lady?"

"It's nothing…." He mumbled with red dusting his cheeks.

I hurried along and clenched and unclenched my hands on my Hijab tied around my waist. My eyes wandered the intricate looking books with print on the sides and some not, for interest sake, I tried to get the ones with names on the side.

"This one?"

"Ehh… you don't want that one, its about plants." He said this with a scrunched up face.

"This?"

"I've already read it, it's boring."

"This one looks pretty."

"You don't pick one because it looks pretty Hakim, beauty is misleading."

I looked at him funny then. "Did the Grand master say that?"

His cheeks reddened again and I laughed.

"How about this one then?"

"The Marvels and Wonders of the Thousand and One Nights…. And it sounds boring."

I glared at him. "Well, have you read it before?"

"No."

'Then lets read it!" I grabbed it and hurried to the pillows with it in my hands, excitement escaping me in huge leaps and jumps. I plopped down heavily and waited for Darim to sit down alongside me. He sighed and moved to sit beside me, shifting around a bit with his robes and then holding his hand out for the book in which I hastily handed to him and eagerly waited for him to open it.

"Now before.."

"Come on already!" I bursted. "I want to hear a story!"

He wrinkled his face then. "No, listen." He put his hand over my mouth when I tried to speak again. "You know how when people speak, they leave a space in-between words to make it easy to understand? Answer with a nod."

I nodded very quickly.

"That is how it is with books, see." He scooted closer to me and pointed it out with the title of the story. "See how The and Story are separated?" I nodded again and then tilted my head.

"So that's what those words look like then." I muttered quietly to myself.

He chuckled and then reclined upon the pillows, holding the book out to the side for both of us to read. _"The Story of King Shahryar and His Brother…. A long time ago there was a mighty king of the Banu Sasan in the lands of India and China, and when he died, he left only two sons, one in the prime of manhood and the other still a youth, both brave cavaliers. But the elder was an especially superb horseman, and he became the successor to the empire and ruled the kingdom with such justice that he was beloved by all the people of his realm. His name was Shahryar, and he…."_

* * *

I never learned to read or write, yet the tales of Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves and The Tale of the Enchanted Prince fascinated me to the point where I would sit with Darim and have him read to me, for it was lulling and comforting, and I wished for nothing more but to fall asleep to the tales Scheherazade would spin and weave through her voice to keep her alive for just one more night.

* * *

Dialogue heavy this is. –nods- But I'm trying to develop the story before Darim leaves for ten years along with Maria and Altair. For some very important things must happen before then! So they'll stay this age for a tiny bit to develop some good ol things!

_ I noticed when we passed an Assassin or maid in the hall, he would make sure I was always close to the wall. _This is me alluding even more how weak and held down the female gender are. It was spoke about in The Tragedy of Romeo and Juliet, and was in simple meaning that men were to protect women if danger arose, and the wall was a barrier in which others could not hurt them, and men would be placed outside to protect the outside where danger come upon them. So it's a mere Allusion to Romeo and Juliet if you think about it.

But anyhow, I'm always very happy seeing reviews for my story, thank you for reviewing! I shall be writing more since I sprained my ankle and can barely move it at all. So homework and extra writing will be done earlier than I'm used to… that and I can't work…. And I liked working since its with cows and we herd them and it's so much fun!

I watched The Hobbit for the first time last night, and it was spectacular! I recommend it and I'll defiantly watch the rest!

Thanks for reading, and have a good day and or evening!

P.S The book in which Darim reads to Hakim is rather long and strenuous to the eyes, but wondrous to minds.


End file.
